Help
by StriderX
Summary: Jack was injured more then he thought. He needs help, and the Winds think Bunnymund can provide it. Brotherly love fic. Two-shot.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** A two-shot featuring Jack and Bunny and the Winds, with all their brotherly love.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own.

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**Help**

Jack knew something was wrong the moment he hopped into the Western Wind. For many reasons, it had always been one of his favorite winds. Not the least of which being its power and ferocity in the skies. For Jack, riding Westerly was like a surfer catching the Maverick wave: it was thrill, adrenaline, and complete and utter freedom all balled up into one.

Today however, the only thought that screeched through Jack's mind was _PAIN!_ as the West Wind tossed him about like a dog with his favorite ball. Surprised by the usually giddy sprite's yelp, Westerly halted its play, gently easing Jack back to the high tree branch he'd leapt from.

"Thanks, Wind…" he ground out lowly, wrapping a shaking hand around his middle. "I dun'no what's wrong with me today."

Of course Jack was lying. He knew exactly what was wrong with him. It was only yesterday that he'd been in the fight of his life with Pitch, had his staff broken, and been tossed nearly half-a-mile like a frozen ragdoll. Even a Spirit couldn't walk away from something like that without at least _some_ discomfort.

And boy, was he feeling discomfort now. North had wanted him to lie low for a few days at the Pole, but Jack wouldn't hear of it. Sure, he was thrilled for his new 'family' and all, but between the bonding and the celebration, Jack was missing the peace and quiet of the sky. So, he did what any teenager would have done. He left.

And now, he was paying the price. What started late after the party (after he'd had a good run from the ever irritable Bunnymund) as a dull throb in his side, had compounded since into a stabbing agony that coursed through his entire body. Though he tried hard to ignore it, he was sure _something_ must be broken _somewhere_. Problem was: Jack had no idea what, or where.

All he knew was, what he thought was a small nuisance was very quickly escalating into a rather large problem.

Carefully plopping himself into a sit on the branch, the winter spirit considered his options. He could always just hibernate for a little while. Most of the world was going into warmer months right now, anyway. He could afford a little time off. A little vacation in Antarctica, maybe? Yeah, Jack thought, good plan. He'd just go find a nice ice cave and hide for a few weeks, and suddenly reappear again, right as rain.

Thusly decided, Jack used his staff to pull up into an unsteady stand on the branch and peered over the evergreen forest. A little known fact: wind currents were best seen this time of day, at dusk. Mixing with the orange and reds of flaming sunlight, Jack caught the subtle twists of green and purple, pink and blue, of the mingling wind patterns. Westerly was hovering just above him still, a twirling mass of rainbow colors; a playful bundle much like one of Sophie's finger paintings. Just beyond, a little lower in the sky, the Southern Wind slunk lazily above the ground with a deep sea blue shimmering across its face.

Jack smiled. "Hey, South!" he called; bracing himself as projecting his voice rattled a sore spot in his chest. "Catch!"

Suddenly, he walked off the branch, falling through the sky without a shred of fear on his face. In milliseconds, the ever-faithful Southern wind braided its colors of turquoise to reach him, wrapping him in a comfortably warm embrace. The movement was gentle and feather-light, but even it, as South wound forward, found Jack gritting his teeth. "Ahg, nope…South…'m sorry. Put me down," Jack couldn't help the whimper in his voice.

Before he knew what was happening, the winter spirit found his eyes watering and breath coming up short. His knees weak, Jack sunk to the forest floor, absently doubling over with both arms wrapped about his middle. Not even his staff could bring relief as Jack pushed it aside for a better grip. His head pressed into the dirt and teeth gritting in a hiss of agony, he barely felt the collective winds brushing up against his cheek. Northern wind attempted to cool him, while South cushioned his heartbeat and East caressed his shot nerves. Westerly danced in a flurry of confusion, unsure what was best to do.

When Jack finally caught his breath, frosty tears stung at his eyes. Grabbing his staff, he pulled himself to a wobbly stand—a gentle push from South helped him regain his balance. "Thanks guys," all too quickly, Jack found himself going from large problem to _serious_ issue. Everything was suddenly going out of focus, becoming blurry and discolored. There was blackness, and lightness, and then, as he took in a deep, ragged breath, the snapping of something inside him. Later, he would remember screaming and collapsing, but never hitting the ground.

The forest shook as the winds spun a cyclone under their beloved little brother. Must keep him safe, must protect; this was their singular thought as they wrapped around him, working together in a rare show of cooperation.

From a distance, as the sun set in an explosion of gold and purple, a cocoon of rainbows could be seen flying swiftly as a midnight bird, their precious cargo resting restlessly between them. Off they sped into the Western horizon, bending trees and tearing grass behind them as they journeyed to the closest help: the hidden Warren of the Easter Bunny.

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It was an uncharted island off the coast of Australia, in reality. Cloaked by magic and dusted with fog swirling about, Bunnymund's home had been free of wandering eyes for centuries. It was a place where his gifts to the world were born and raised, painted and primed, and set off into the intricate circuit of tunnels that wove through the Earth to every continent and village above. It was a quiet place, a peaceful place; a place where the winds never, _ever_ fought.

This being the case, Bunny found it more than odd to see black clouds roll over his skies. He'd been resting up under a mulberry tree in one of the great valley's where newborn eggs roamed. Lying there, with arms behind his head, Bunny stared at the dark phenomenon with furrowing brow. It wasn't supposed to rain today, he thought. He would have sworn he hadn't seen rain on the schedule for another four days.

Just then, as he pondered, a crack of thunder as fierce as the Sandman's whip sent the Pooka launching to his feet, boomerangs drawn. There was no rain, but with eyes glued to the sky, Bunny saw something he'd never thought he see. In the peak of the blackness ahead, a cyclone of wind battled with his island's magic, forcing entry upon it. There were cracks and lightning strikes colored like his brightest egg masterpiece.

His eyes went wide as the cyclone pushed through, further and further until it touched down into a tornado over the valley. Squinting against the sheer force of wind shooting off colors and temperatures like weapons, Bunny finally saw it. A figure inside the storm. A flash of blue and white.

Bunnymund's heart leapt into his throat. He only knew one white-haired spirit who could rally all the winds of the earth like this.

Jack Frost.

When he shouted the boy's name and pounced toward the column of wind without fear, the storm simply _vanished_. All the lights, all the gusts, gone. Bunnymund suddenly found himself standing in the valley with Jack cradled in his arms; the only sound filling his ears being his own harsh breathing and the _thump_ of Jack's staff hitting the ground. Looking up, Bunny's eyes widened at the beautiful blue of the sky.

"Well, I'll be a blimey's uncle…" the rabbit muttered before peering down to the unconscious bundle in his arms.

Instantly Bunny's breath caught. The boy was a sickly grey and _warm_ to the touch. The small streak of blood streaming from his lips stood out in stark contrast against his skin. Silently cursing himself, Bunny realized just what a fool he really was. How could he have missed this?

Barely sparing a glance at his eggling flock, Bunny kicked up boy's staff into his grasp and took off at high speed, holding the young spirit close as he sped through the meadow to his home at the center of the island. He only prayed he wasn't too late.

By the time Bunny reached his den, Jack was beginning to stir. It was just whimpers and short cries at first; incoherent whispers of a child on the brink of consciousness. Forcing himself not to look down, Bunnymund made his way through the borough as smoothly as he could, avoiding stairs and bumps as much as possible, to a cool room deep underground. Pushing open the door with his foot, Bunny couldn't suppress the shiver that stole through him.

He'd only ever used this room to store ice before. Try as he may, he never could get it to warm up. There were no windows, no drafts, just a mystical chill that never subsided. Of course now, it hit him. The room never warms because it wasn't _meant_ to. It was set aside for Jack. MiM plans everything…even the small bed carved of ice in one corner and the light blue pillows and quilt woven with ice crystals covering it.

Bunny sighed: looks like he really didn't have a choice, after all. The Snowflake wasn't goin' anywhere…not that he wanted him to, really.

That's when Bunnymund made his fatal mistake.

He looked down.

**TBC...**

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**A/N:** Thank you all for reading! The conclusion will be posted Wednesday, 1/16, for your pleasure. Reviews are loved and read with care :)


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Thank you all so much for your thoughts and reviews! You've truly made my week. Without further adieu, please enjoy the conclusion.

**Disclaimer:** Do not own.

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**Help**

**The Conclusion**

The sight that met Bunnymund broke his old heart near worse than when the kids stopped believing in him only yesterday. Jack was almost impossibly small in his arms, curled up in his fur like a pup trying to hide from a nightmare. A whimper escaped the boy as a shudder rippled through his bones. His bright eyes were fogged with confused as they darted about, squinting under raised brows at every jolt inside.

"Shh, shh, it's a'right, Snowflake…" Bunny cooed, trying to pull the kid back to him. Carefully, he sat on the icy bed (blimely it was cold enough to freeze off his fluffy cottontail) and ran a gently hand over Jack's hair. "Ya' got'ta tell me what 'appened."

Slowly, painfully, Jack seemed to come around. He blinked once, twice; each time the fog lifted just a little. Then, suddenly, he was aware of something soft, warm, and—cringing violently, Jack's back arched against the agony of sighing.

"Easy, _easy!_" Bunnymund tried desperately, shifting so he could lay the young Guardian on the bed. But the kid wouldn't hear of it. Even with his body cooling on the winter mattress of shaved ice, his hand remained steadfastly entwined with the fur of the Rabbit's paw. Bunny held it tightly, letting Jack express himself as far as he needed until the spasm past.

After an eternity of bated breath, Jack seemed to be able to catch his voice again. With more caution this time, the winter sprite opened his eyes and locked onto Bunny. "B-bunny…wha'?"

It hit Bunnymund that Jack had no idea where he was. He may not even know how he got there. "It's okay, kid…yer' in my Warren. The Winds brought ya' here…" Bunny tried to relax a little, if not for his sake, then for Jack's. "Got'ta say, I never thought I'd see tha' day when they worked together like that."

Jack smiled, though it seemed a horrid representation with cracks of blood dyeing pale lips. "They're m-my friends. I couldn't…I couldn't fly," he admitted lowly, seeming ashamed. Again wrapping a trembling hand around his ribs, he let out a puff of air that felt to Bunny to be somewhere between disgust and fear. "I-I think something's broken inside."

The quiet admission nearly made Bunny smile. "What made ya' think that, ya' dill?" then, gentler, the Pooka ran a nervous paw over an ear. "Did somethin' 'appen to ya'?"

When Jack shrugged and lifted a hand to wipe at the stream from his lips that refused to freeze, Bunny wasn't sure if he should be worried or relieved. "Na…'s from Pitch."

Bunnymund's eyes went wide. They _had_ missed something. "You didn't say anythin'."

Jack's gaze fell down, his fingers absently playing with the hem of his hoodie (he'd wiped the blood there, not wanting to stain the bed). "I didn't realize it…'till I tried riding the wind," he could tell Bunny didn't believe him without even looking up. "Really…I just thought…'was sore…"

Bunny could see the boy getting weaker with every passing breath. Broken ribs for sure, he thought; the bleeding seemed to come from a split inside the kid's mouth. "Alright, ya' snowflake, this's gon'na hurt'a bit, but we got'ta get them ribs wrapped."

To say the Guardian of Fun looked like a kid grounded for a month would be an understatement. "Wha'?" Jack fought quickly to a sit, desperately fighting to hide the agony pelting his torso. "Na'…'s fine, Bunny! See?" he swiveled stiffly; only Bunnymund blocked him from grabbing his staff and bolting for good. "'m fine!"

And then it happened—another spasm. Worse and stronger then the last, Jack couldn't bite back the harsh cry that ripped from his throat. Bunnymund instantly had both paws around the kid, frantically wanting to do anything to help. Jack hardly even noticed. His eyes had gone black again; a blinding white pulsed through his head like a sledgehammer. Violently, he grabbed at his ribs, turning into himself as he fell into Bunny's protective embrace.

Both of them could feel the icy rime spreading from cheek to fur, but neither took any notice. At each cry, Bunny jumped, swallowing his own emotions (some for the boy's pain, most for pride for his strength). He prayed silently, _hoping_ MiM would help Jack sleep, but the winter spirit was strong…MiM knew better than anyone that Jack wouldn't accept some act of pity like that.

"Bun—"

The word was all Jack could bite out through ground teeth, and he hated himself for it. He felt so weak, so ashamed. In his mind, all he needed to do was straighten up and smile and all the pain would go away, but…there he was, curled in a ball in Bunnymund's lap, sobbing like an infant. He needed Bunny to help him, to _save_ him from himself.

Bunny understood that.

"A'right, Jack…" he murmured, the sound of the kid's name feeling heavy on his tongue. "Ya' got'ta get straight fer' me so I can make it betteh'," even as he spoke, Bunny started gently pulling Jack away from him; a firm paw on his shoulder kept the kid from falling back over.

Jack nodded through tightly squeezed eyes. Of course Bunny was right, he knew, the trick was telling his body that. Everything was tight, screwed up like a wound rubber band. Still, he did his best to comply, letting the older Guardian lead him to a somewhat upright position against the wall at one side of the bed.

"Good, good, kid," Bunny smiled and patting a paw on Jack's cheek, half to comfort him, half to wipe away the crimson that streaked there from his crying. "Right. I got'ta go get the bandages, okay? Just stay with me, right?"

Lazily, with a sheen of glittering frost coating his skin, Jack nodded through a grimace and forced a sad little smirk. "D-don' think I'm…go-in' anywhere…"

Bunny chuckled. Strong kid, indeed. And then, like a flash of spring, the Pooka was off.

Leaving Jack alone in his chilly little room.

Not once did the Winter Guardian move on the bed while Bunnymund was gone. Short, slow breaths, he thought. In, out, in, out…

Jack wouldn't be sure later, but it seemed to him that the pain was diminishing some as he sat there on the bed, legs weak and curled, arms locked at the elbows, hands gripping the glassy softness of the quilt. He didn't dare to open his eyes, or to cough when his throat burned from abuse. Instead, he focused. Just. Breathe.

…

"Snowflake?"

…

"Jack?"

…

"Jack!"

The intensity of Bunnymund's voice nearly gave Jack a heart attack. Instinctively, his bleary eyes shot open, surprised to see the Pooka sitting in front of him on the small bed, his giant paws slightly shaking his shoulders.

"Oi, mate…ya' gave me a fright," he said, visibly relaxing when Jack looked at him.

For the next in too many times, Jack found himself confused. "Wha'?" dumbly, he gazed wondered about the room. "What ha-happened?"

Bunny sighed while he gathered up the bandages he'd tossed on the bed. "Ya' passed out, ya' dill," then, softer, "You alright, kid?" Sure, Bunny well knew the answer already, but he knew Jack would appreciate the dignity of lying. He had to suppress a chuckle when the kid nodded. Well, at least his bleeding lip seemed to have stopped. Or frozen. Bunny wasn't entirely sure how that worked.

"Yeah, fine," Jack murmured, eying the medical supplies with caution. "Wh-at're you going..to do?"

Bunny did chuckle then. The roll of white bandage in his paws was harmless for sure, yet Jack was eyeing it like a Viper primed to strike. "No worries, mate…jus' gon'na wrap this about yer' middle so ya' can get some sleep. Bugger thing about busted ribs…take 'while ta' heal."

Jack almost rolled his eyes. He did, really…in his head. His eyes just weren't cooperating right at that moment. Defeated, he hoped a short puff of frigid air would get his point across.

It did.

Ignoring the silent whine, Bunny worked with inhuman sympathy and precision skill to help the boy ease out of his old hoodie, one painful movement at a time.

Ten minutes passed, and Jack was left shirtless and panting with face firmly set in a frown as Bunnymund started wrapping his torso with cloth. It hurt more then he'd admit, but Jack knew it'd be alright. Though he'd probably never say it, he trusted the Pooka with his life.

With trained paws working nimbly about the boy's tiny figure, Bunny tried not to notice the distinct white crystals scaling Jack's injured ribcage like a mold. It was his way of bruising, Bunny realized, but cold and disturbing nonetheless. Clearing his throat, he tied the last, flat knot and secured the tight bandage. "There ya' are, all set."

Shaking with the tremors of hurt, Jack pried opened his eyes and tested his breath. Tears nearly spilled over when he found he could breathe again. "Much better," he sighed. "Thanks."

Bunny nodded. He was pleased with his work, pleased he could be there for Jack when he needed him, and thrilled that the kid's color was no longer grey and skin was again chilled with the health of ice. "Good. Now, time fer' rest. Why don'cha try to lay down, uh?"

"'k," Jack's voice was barely a squeak, but he let Bunny help him shift anyway.

Uniquely gentle, the Rabbit pulled up the blanket over Jack's still form and smiled. "Yer' gon'na be jus' fine, kid. Rest up now."

Without the strength to fight, Jack felt himself pulled under by the sweet lull of sleep. He didn't want it—not in front of Bunny—but they were friends now, _family_…and try as he might, his eyelids were simply too heavy to hold open any longer.

Bunnymund was sure not to let the worry crease his face until well after Jack's eyes fluttered closed and breath evened-out. Deep set lines crinkled at the corners when his eyes frowned a tired sigh. Running a paw over the spirit's frosted hair, Bunny shook his head. "Wha'm I gon'na do with you, kid?"

Slowly, silently, he stood to leave the chilly room, stopping in the doorway only to look back at the immortal child sleeping in his den. It would forever be beyond him, how a child of ice could bring such warmth to his ancient old heart.

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Later, Jack would wake to find himself in a room hid did not remember. There was blue on the walls and intricate pillows around his head. A woven quilt insulated him like a cave from the sun and a bed of carved ice melded with his shape. Only a slight tinge of pain stopped a laugh at the little basket of eggs brightening the room on a table by his bed. He didn't remember ever seeing the room before, but instantly he knew it was _his. _

As a subtle shift of winds ruffled the ice at his feet, Jack smiled, eyes drifting closed.

**End.**

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**A/N:** Thanks again for your time and interest. Till next time,

~Strider


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